Plumage of the Soul
by Soprana
Summary: Oneshots or clips of Soul and Maka. General. Humor. Romance. Tragedy. Hurt/Comfort. etc.
1. Titanic

**Hey Everyone! I've been so busy with classes and trying to conquer this writing block I have on The Elements that I haven't uploaded anything. While I was away(brainstorming and expanding my skills), I've gotten into Fullmetal Alchemist and Soul Eater. So, I decided to upload Soul and Maka oneshots...and maybe others. My apologies! TwT**

**I don't know when I'll update The Elements but hopefully it will be soon!**

**Read and Review! Feedback helps me improve!**

**~Soprana  
><strong>

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><p>Ah, Titanic.<p>

194 minutes of a romantic, epically tragic love of two people from two different worlds on a ship deemed 'unsinkable' that indeed, sank. Why so many people liked it, Soul didn't know.

All he knew now was that he, Maka , and Blair were sitting in their dark living room watching that cinematic adventure. To say he was surprised that Maka had never seen it would have been a lie. Maka was a bookworm with no life.

But, Maka being Maka, she just _had_ to know why everyone liked it. She borrowed the disc from Tsubaki, ignoring the girl's starry eyes and emotional chants on how romantic it was. Then Maka asked him to watch it with her. He could never say no to her pleading eyes and her pouting lip, it would be uncool of him. But, so was sitting still and watching this chick flick with only popcorn to entertain him.

It was all so simple: Jack sees Rose, Rose tries to die and fails, they fall in love, they are pushed apart because of status, they hit a giant block of ice, ship goes down, Jack dies, Rose lives, Rose throws away jewelery, Rose dies, and they all go partying under the sea at the end. What kind of movie is that?

Apparently a damn good one to many people he knows. Soul would have found it more entertaining if both Jack and Rose were like, "Hell no" and stole a lifeboat, rowed out to sea, and started a new life on some island. Sadly, Soul would never be able to beat out James Cameron's directing skills.

He spent most of the movie chomping down popcorn while watching Jack and Rose fall helplessly in love from the safety of their couch. Maka, however, was camped out in front of the TV on a bean bag chair with Blair nestled on her lap in cat form. Neither of the girls had said a word since the movie started, not even during Jack and Rose's 'sexy time' in the car. He was sure Maka would gag or Blair would make a comment but, they proved him wrong. When they handcuffed Jack to the pipes, Blair slowly slinked away, whispering about heading to work. Maka didn't even acknowledge this, keeping her eyes glued to the screen.

Everything was typical until the scene where Jack died and Rose let him sink below the icy surface. The scene froze, the movie was paused as Maka shot up and skittered to her room, blurting that it was a 'stupid movie'. That had Soul confused.

Maka never stopped anything halfway. From homework, to movies, to basketball games, to arguments: Maka always had the final say.

Genuinely concerned for her, Soul naturally followed. He let his knuckles tap the door before he slowly entered the room affectionately called, 'Maka's domain of terror' because all of her favorite Maka Chop volumes were stored there. The scene before him shook him to his spine. Maka, the analytical bookworm, was curled on her bed with her pillow clutched close to her body. Tears ran down her face as she glanced up at him before she rolled over to face away.

"Maka?" Soul asked as he inched in her room, tensed for anything she had to throw at him.

"Gggguuuwwwayy." was all she had for him. Soul was bewildered. She never told him to go away before.

"Maka, what's wrong? Did I do something?" He very well knew that he didn't, but knowing for sure beat Maka Chops all the way. She shook her head before rolling back to him.

"Well? What's wrong then?" He sighed in exasperation. He was worth crap when it came to tears, especially Maka's tears.

Maka blinked away her tears before sitting up, the pillow still a part of her body. "That movie is stupid."

Soul blinked.

One second.

Two seconds.

Raw laughter ripped up his throat. Maka looked taken aback, then she reached for her bedside dictionary also used for her midnight brain munchies. Soul acted quickly. "Really Maka? You cry over a _movie?_ How uncool." Maka snorted and looked away. "You were worse when we watched Bridge to Terabithia." She grumbled.

Soul choked. Well shit, she had him there. Maka was too busy trying to see if there was such a place as 'Terabithia' while he ran his waterworks. Uncool. He rolled his eyes and sat beside Maka with a grunt. Maka began to speak, her voice wavering with effort, her sniffles gaining volume.

"I-I don't u-nderstand! It a l-love story, right? They d-efy the barriers and then...t-then stupid Jack dies! Why does Rose's luck run out? It's not f-air." She sobbed. Soul snickered and pulled her in a hug.

"Maka, it's a movie. Those are actors. You didn't even watch it to the end." Maka looked up hopefully.

"It ends happily?" She quipped eagerly. Soul snorted.

Girls and their happy endings.

"In a way. I can't spoil it. Come on, you can sit with me and finish the movie." With a slow nod, Maka followed him back out to the living room to face the rest of the movie. Once he was on the couch with her leaning up against him, the movie commenced again. Only this time, Soul found his cheeks unbearably hotter. Maka, his meister, was snuggled under his arm and was watching the end of a love story. Damn, his luck sucked. The instant the credits rolled, Maka slowly turned to him, confusion in her eyes.

"So...they have a ghost party under the sea?"

That was when Soul smiled. Not only did she share his thoughts about the sea party, but her so close to him made him feel...inexplicably good. She was here, needing him like she did in battle. The meister and the weapon shared something special.

Maka sighed before removing herself from his side, and Soul immediately missed her warmth. "I liked it but, now I want to watch another movie. Let's watch Marley and Me!" She cheerfully said as she exchanged the disc's in the player. Soul shrugged. As long as she sat next to him like that again, he was cool with whatever she wanted.

Even if it involved both of them crying over a stupid movie together.


	2. Feeble

**Hey, Hiya, Wazz up? This was the first Soul Eater oneshot that I wrote, but the first one published was Titanic. I signed up for new classes for the Spring semester! Sadly, no writing classes. Another semester of just science. Anyway, I posted myself up for beta-ing! Yay! Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Happy November! I dunno.**

**~ Soprana**

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><p>Steel was steel in the end. It was an alloy of iron and other mixtures in a elemental cocktail composed for construction, tools, ships, cars, appliances, and weapons. It wasn't always a transforming part of a human being yet, that type of steel were rare and not possessed by just any human. From experiments the witch, Arachne, had conducted over 800 years ago, a demon weapon was created that had possessed this type of steel that could bend and move just like a limb.<p>

Demon weapons were humans who could transform into weapons, whenever able to of course. Demon weapons are just like humans in aspect, except that they can in fact, transform themselves or part of themselves into a weapon. When in weapon form, the metal making up their forms can change shape and even bend in ridiculous angles with fabled flexibility. With each transformation, the demon weapon glows the color of his or her soul before returning to or from their normal human form. Transformation from human to weapon is known to be dangerous without proper control, and some weapons have hurt themselves or those around them during the change. Because of this, they are sometimes feared in society.

Without a meister, or a human to wield the demon weapon in weapon form, a demon weapon cannot unleash it's full potential. This was one of the reasons the Death Weapon Miester Academy was created. The goal of every weapon at DWMA was to consume 99 evil human souls and one witch soul to become a Death Scythe. Death Scythes are the weapons of Shinigami, the death god. With the title of Death Scythe, enormous power follows the transformation. It is forbidden for a demon weapon to consume an innocent human soul, for they will become a Dark Weapon, opposite of a Death Scythe. When paired with a meister, the weapon's abilities grow and become more lethal. To be wielded correctly, however, the meister and the weapon's soul wavelengths must be in sync. In other words, the meister must understand that the weapon is a human being with objectives and vice versa.

If this does not happen, rejection will occur.

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><p>At least, that was what they learned in class.<p>

Steel was steel:Steel was mostly hard. Steel did not wobble and wiggle like jello on a stick when the weapon wanted it stiff and deadly. That was not suppose to happen at all. Maka was positive of that much.

Steel constructed cars that were sturdy and buildings that stood tall for years. Why would steel wiggle?

She slammed her textbook shut with a growl and rolled off her bed with practiced grace. It had all started today when Black Star had challenged Soul to a spar. It wasn't serious at all, just healthy fighting for the sake of staying in shape. Soul acted normal enough, shrugging casually like cool guys do before following the hyperactive idiot out to the school grounds, hands in his pockets. It was just like any normal day. She rolled her eyes and let them banter on while indulging in her latest book, brushing her hair away to devour the words of the writer. All was well until Tsubaki gasped and the metal clanging stopped abruptly. Maka had glanced up casually to see a horror film unfold.

Black Star was quiet for once, frozen in a crouching position in front of Soul, holding Tsubaki in kunai form. His eyes were wide like a child who just broke something of value, mirroring Tsubaki's reflection in her blade. Maka's eyes fell to her partner, scouring for any reaction to an injury. Soul quietly shook his arm, and Maka was greeted with sounds of metallic wobbling. Her hands immediately shut her book and she was at his side in a heartbeat, only to choke back her breath.

Soul's arm was transformed into a blade, with the normal red and black zigzag design glinting in the sunlight. What wasn't normal, was it being warped over like a thin piece of aluminum and it's razored edge too dull to even cut butter. It dangled limply from it's junction to his elbow without the normal air of deadliness it once emitted. If Maka had known why it had happened, she would have laughed but, she didn't know: And that scared her. Soul could be turning into a sardine can for all she knew and he still had not reacted.

He stared blankly at his floppy blade, his face not betraying his thoughts at all. He gave his arm another shake, blinking when the same sound greeted the action. Immediately, all three people turned to her, silently demanding information: pleading she had the magic cure stored up in her ever knowing noggin with their eyes. Soul's eyes were the most pleading. He was desperate to stay calm and cool but, she could tell inside he was freaking out. Her face was laxed, but her eyes said it all. She didn't have a clue.

Without a word, Soul's blade became his arm, and he was off walking away from them. "Ha? Wait _Soul!_" She cried out before chasing him down. He didn't reply. He didn't look up from the ground as he trudged to school, ignoring her.

They were halfway up the vast staircase up to the school when she finally snapped. Stamping her foot down hard, she riveted herself on the spot and glared at her white haired weapon. Soul stopped and sighed, not turning to face her.

"Maka, not now." He held out the first syllable of her name in annoyance but that didn't phase her. He finally spoke to her.

"No Soul! Did you not see? That was not normal! You could be sick, injured, dieing, changing without even realizing it! This is serious!" Soul whipped around, his hair curling and uncurling. "I _know_ that!" He hissed between his clenched teeth, his eyes aflame. She had sensed his anger and sighed.

"Lets just calm down and go talk to Stein, okay?" She had hoped she sounded calm. Soul simply nodded before continuing up the stairs, with or without her on his heels.

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><p>Everything was eerie quiet until they had reached the hall before the dispensary. The last person either of them wanted to see appeared before them with an ecstatic grin on his face. Spirit Albarn, the current Death Scythe, studied Soul for a moment before rounding on his daughter.<p>

"Oh Maka! My Maka! Sweet Angel! Maka!" He chanted directly into her poor ears before she cleaved her book into his head.

"Bad Papa." She simply stated before stepping over his prone body. They had made it halfway down the hall before Spirit gruffly called out, "Having trouble with your consistency today, Octopus head?"

He chuckled, causing both young meister and weapon to freeze mid-step before whirling around. Spirit's grin grew in satisfaction.

"Ah yes. You are now reflecting how you usually are: lazy, floppy, useless, dull. Ring a bell?"

Maka was sure her book had wings as she chucked it at astonishing speed, nailing her father in the center of his forehead with a loud _bap!_

"Soul is not any of those things! Stupid Papa!" She screeched, fuming. She faintly hears Soul snicker, 'bulls-eye' before she tromped away from her deranged father, not even noting Soul hadn't followed her. She left him to see Dr. Stein on his own. It was time to put her bookwormish habit to work.

She was alone all the way home, and all the way in her room, and all through her books. There had to be an answer somewhere.

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><p>She honestly feared Soul was sick. He never showed it, never asked her for help, never gave her a clue to his troubles. She would only notice his slow reactions, his sniffles, his lack of appetite, or his insomnia. He always let her help then. But the look in his eyes today, it was fear.<p>

He had no idea what was wrong and he had looked to her for help. He rarely got sick because of his weapon blood. He could slice through monsters, his blood could slice through germs. She nearly laughed at the thought. Soul? Sick? Once in a blue moon.

She let her fingers run down the spine of her textbook thoughtfully. Do weapons have certain sicknesses? Deadly sicknesses? She bit her lip in fear. Soul would probably never tell her, he was always like that. Trying to protect her by keeping her in the dark. It was utterly pointless of him. She would never stop worrying about him.

She snapped her head up when she heard the familiar sigh as the front door opened. Soul was finally home.

Her legs acted separately from her will as she dashed around the corner and smacked into Soul at full speed. He released an ungraceful 'oof' as he caught her shoulders.

"Soul!" She cried as her face was muffled behind his black jacket. "Where were you?"

Soul grinned softly before shrugging. "Information hunting."

That was it? She pulled away with a curious face.

"And? What did you find? My books had nothing helpful." she asked quietly. Soul sighed and turned away. "Figures. Books are useless anyway."

"Maka Chop!"

Soul staggered over. "Ow! Damn it woman! Stop hitting the sickly!" Maka froze up. _Sickly? _If he said sickly, does that mean it was serious? Tears touched the brim of her eye lids. Was she going to lose Soul? Was she going to be alone now? Was there a cure? What if there wasn't? How long did he have?

"Maka? Oi! Maka!" Soul said as he shook her, rather forcefully. "Don't get all starry eyed on me, Maka!" She blinked before looking into his ruby eyes. He seemed startled that she was crying, because he stayed silent. She took that opportunity to voice her questions.

"Is...is it serious? Does Stein have a cure? Is it like a rare disease that turns you into a soda can? What's wrong Soul? It's scaring me that I don't know." She sounded weak, scared, pathetic. She hated it. She hated not knowing. Books told her everything, anything she needed. They have failed her. Soul blinked in bewilderment before scratching his head in resignation.

"Maka...it's...it's...it's Feeble Steel Transformation Sickness." The tone of his voice, the serious baritone sound he made as he spoke it's name tore her apart. It sounded serious enough.

Soul saw the terror cross her face, but before he could stop her, she was gone around the corner into her room. "Maka!" He stopped at her door, only to get hit in the face with a book. "Agh! Damn it Maka!" He griped as the book plopped to the ground. Another book flew past him, and that was when Soul noticed Maka digging in her bookshelf frantically sobbing like a lunatic.

"Maka! Hey!" He shouted over the rustling of pages as he stepped to her and grasped her arms from chucking more books into his face. His eyes narrowed: She was trembling. "Maka?" He asked in concern, forcing her to face him. Tears ran down her face as she breathed in huffs of panic. Her bottom lip trembled as she attempted to keep herself together. She was doing it horribly.

"Maka, what's wrong? Stop crying already." He admonished gently, wondering what he did to deserve this. Her pupils were dilated and her eyes would have looked like crisp olives if she wasn't blinking so much. He was shocked even more when she hugged him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder with a sob.

"S-S-S...oul...I...dun-wan-looose...you!" Was all he heard before she sat back. "I can't find anything about it, I've never even heard of that sickness! I'm so stupid! If I had read more, I would have been able to pin point the symptoms before it was too late! Soul! I'm so sorry!" She shouted through her tears, her fist clenched in her lap as she looked down in shame. "I should have taken better care! My cooking got you sick! Or was it my school habits? Could it have been my Maka Chops? _Oh no! What if it was! Soul I doomed you with my violent chops!_" She all but yelled to the world, her hands on her cheeks in horror. "I'm such a _bad_ meister! A_ horrible meister!_ _The worst meister!"_

Soul burst out laughing. Maka looked flabbergasted.

"_Soul!_ There is nothing funny about 'Feeble Steel Transformation Sickness'! Why are you laughing at a time like this?" She cried.

Soul lost it. His chest refused to let him breath as his booming laugh shook the air around him. He clutched his sides, the laughing dieing down to a chuckle before he faced a startled Maka.

"Maka, I have the 'cure' right here. Trust me, it wasn't anything you did. It was all me. No reading would have helped you in this situation. Although, your Maka Chops probably had a hand in it." Soul fumbled in his jacket before producing a small yellow bottle with pinkish pills inside. Astounded, Maka took the bottle like it was a goblet of pure gold. She nearly cried out in joy until she read the label.

'Iron supplements for weapons. Take one by mouth for five days. Best if taken with food. Prescribed for Soul Eater.'

She re-read the words for clarity before looking up at her weapon. "Iron supplements?" She questioned. Soul nodded.

"Your iron was low?" Soul scowled and looked away. Maka blinked owlishly.

"So, there is no such thing as 'Feeble Steel Transformation Sickness?'" Soul looked at her with a smirk.

"I came up with the name myself. Pretty cool huh?"

Maka was silent for a moment, her hand inching to a specific volume of the Oxford encyclopedia...the 'S' section. The 'S' standing for, "_Stupid Soul!" _Maka howled as she brought the book down on his skull.

"You scare me like that and let me get all teary eyed and worried only to tell me you made a new name for iron deficiency? _Mega Maka Chop!"_ She brought down the 'R' volume for 'Revenge'.

With a satisfying crack and a grunt of pain from Soul, she felt better. Relived actually. She didn't even have to reach for the 'T' volume. 'Termination' was not needed.

"I'm glad it wasn't anything serious." She breathed, patting his white head. Soul looked up at her with a confused face. "Huh?"

Maka smiled. "This means I have to make sure less unhealthy food is in the house. I don't want this happening again! Say goodbye to your vanilla cake in the fridge." She sang as she skipped to the kitchen.

"Wha? No! Maka please leave my snacks alone! I'm sorry!" Soul shouted as he blundered to stand, disoriented from the Maka chops.

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><p>Steel was steel, but demon weapons were people that weren't strong all the time. Yet, when the time came and they needed care, they would always have their meisters giving them protection away from the battlefield.<p> 


	3. Radio

**Really short and really choppy. I didn't really drill on this one, it just appeared here in my PC and then magically to . :)**

**Anyway,** **something to show for my lazy Sunday**! **It's not super, but it's something. **

**~Soprana**

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><p>His soul is like a radio; playing all kinds of music all day long.<p>

He's like her personal portable radio. She tunes in just to listen. He doesn't know: She won't tell him.

She sits outside his soul room just listening, always silent.

He plays a variety of tunes while she's tuned in. Some are him playing his piano, some are songs on his mind at the moment, and some are songs he has yet to compose. Maka finds it enthralling just listening to what he's in the mood for. The music in his soul cures any ailing mood he is in or spike a happy feeling that infects him.

He's like her Sirius Satellite Radio without a subscription. The only fees she pays is to keep his tummy full, that bottomless pit.

He's her radio, her weapon, her personal DJ.

He held concerts for only her without him knowing. She was an eavesdropper.

His music was her theme song as she walked through the halls. His music was her distraction during class. His music was her lullaby while she rested in bed. She keeps telling herself, 'Just this once.' or, 'Just once more.' She never keeps to it. He's too addicting.

She almost gets caught when she hums along, gaining his suspicious glares. He never mentions anything, shrugging it off as coincidence.

She found that she also controls the dial. She hums a song, and his soul switches to that tune automatically. He teases her about having no taste in music yet his soul accommodates for her lack of it. That's her partner; Rude, but willing to do anything for her.

She laughs randomly at times when his soul plays a particularly amusing piece, earning a strange stare from him. He'll never know until he catches her. Maka's stealthy, so he'll have to practice. For now, she'll listen in. Continuing to enjoy what he won't give her willingly.

He won't give her the decrescendos, ritardandos, prestos, and fermatas she read so much about; So she'll just help herself.

She often dances in her room while listening. He could be in his room, the kitchen, the living room, and she could hear it. His wavelength carries pretty far when she touches that dial.

Behind that closed door of his soul, he plays. Maka can't watch, she can only hear it. He can't see her anyway. She thinks it's safe.

Soul is her radio, and his soul is her DJ. She won't tell him until she feels it's okay. 

He knows she won't tell him. He's fine with that. He knows when she tunes in, her soul singing it's own song in a duet with his.

She doesn't know it, but he plays what accompanies her soul's music. He laughs when she gets that far off smile on her face as she tunes in, and she's too lost to notice. He'll let her control the door into his soul.

For now, he'll play and let her make her move. He couldn't stop her if he tried. She was just too close to him now.

He found it pleasing that she snuck in to listen to his music. She claimed that she didn't understand, but he was slowly teaching her. He felt it every time she tuned in. Her preferences altered, her notes tuned, and her tempo steadied.

Her soul was learning faster than her mind. He was her unplanned teacher.

He could hear her own phrases when she first started, her measures under a constant repeat. Now she ventured on, combining random strings to make a rough draft of her own soul signature in the key of G.

She didn't know it and he won't tell her...yet.

He'll wait till she's in harmony with his melody; It shouldn't be long. She was a fast learner when she wasn't trying so hard.

He feels like her radio; He's fine with that.

He picks a different piece every night to play while she sleeps, savoring her light trills of slumber.

Her soul almost sounds like an orchestra. When she sleeps, the flute has a solo. When she is irritated, the low brass section and the cello's make their staccato beats known. When she's listening to him, the piano part cuts off and he picks up the loss.

Soul is her radio. Maka is his accompaniment.

They don't know the feeling; Blair doesn't feel like telling them.


	4. Albino

**Heya peeps! Hope everyone had a happy April Fool's and a happy Easter. And, for those in college and school, Good luck on finals! My finals are all next week and I'm really nervous. Anyway, here is a new oneshot. I'm not sure about the truth behind Soul's looks, but I just guessed with a genetic reason. Until next time!**

**~Soprana**

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><p>"Dude, Soul! I finally figured out what's wrong with you!" Black Star bellowed, slamming his pint of beer on the worn counter, the frothy liquid sloping over the surface.<p>

He was smiling like he just discovered a cure for his lack of flying ability. Though he won't admit it, he was jealous of Maka and Kid flying.

Soul, who was sitting right next to Black Star during his proclamation, rubbed his sore ear irritably. "What now? First, my lack of godliness compared to you, now what?" He swiveled his beer pensively, just eager for last call.

He's been having a pretty uncool night.

Black Star scoffed. "Pfft, I can understand your godless spirit. Not everyone can have the Godly gift like me. No, about your looks! The red eyes and white hair!"

Soul grimaced.

It was bad enough to have his blind date run away in fear, but now Black Star was critiquing him. Just, perfect.

Kilk had set him up to meet this friend of his that just came to town, giving Soul an opportunity for a date. He had arrived on time, so punctual because of Maka's nagging for him to be a gentleman, dressed up fancy like a show horse. He saw her in the corner booth of the diner, looking so nice in her pink sundress and curled blonde hair. He smiled, waltzing over to her, preparing some clever pick-up line, only to get slapped in the face.

She screeched in fear, calling him a vile vampire, and ran from the diner in hysterics. It caused quite a scene and Soul did the only thing he could think of.

He called Black Star, and they went out drinking.

Now, he regretted that choice.

"Pray tell?" he grumbled, not really caring anymore. Black Star smiled wolfishly.

"Your a new species of human!" He proclaimed with officialism. Soul sighed and pushed away from the bar.

"Highly doubt it. I'm going home." He payed for his drink, turning to leave. Just before he exited, Black Star yelled from across the room, "Ask Maka! She's smart about these things!"

* * *

><p>"I'm home." Soul called as he shut the door to his and Maka's apartment. It was quiet, as expected at ten PM.<p>

"In the kitchen!" She called out softly.

He smirked, entering the small kitchen before pausing in surprise. Maka was sitting at the table like normal, except without books.

She was painting her nails. Her cheeks were pink in frustration as she examined her left index finger.

"Maka, your _painting_ your nails?" His voice betrayed any thought of hiding his astonishment. Maka frowned, her tongue peeking out from her lips in a cute way.

"Yeah, Liz dared me to do it. It's just really hard to get it right like she does. Anyway, how was your date?" She asked sweetly, examining her other colorless nails without looking at him. Soul sighed, leaning up on the door frame. Maka immediately sensed his negative flow, for she looked up from her nails in worry.

"Soul?" He frowned deeper than all of the frowns tonight, crossing his arms.

"Didn't have one." He clipped.

Maka blinked in confusion. "...but...you told me you did?" She was really confused.

Soul closed his eyes. "Well I did, but she didn't stay."

Maka tilted her head, her nails forgotten. "Didn't...stay?" She muttered. Soul looked to the floor, misery written on his features. "I...my looks...kind of...freaked her out." Maka set down her polish carefully, her eyes locked on him.

"Your looks." She stated calmly, almost as if she was going to say he was stupid. He nodded.

"She was there, and when I walked up, she...um...screamed and called me a vampire."

They both were silent...so very silent. Then, together, they both burst out laughing.

"A...a..._vampire? _Oh that one is new!" She giggled, careful of her wet painted nails. She slapped the poor table, gasping for air. "You really can pick them." She teased, proceeding to paint her nails again. Soul smiled, a small one.

"Black Star said he knows what is wrong with me. That I'm a new species of human." He looked down grimly, a sigh escaping his lips. His shoulders slumped, his hair hanging. He looked ragged.

Maka raised her eyebrow. "Black Star doesn't know rabbit pellets from raisins, and that girl obviously lacks in social skills."

Soul sighed, rubbing his cheeks. "She hit pretty hard though." He muttered, and Maka tensed, nearly spilling her bottle.

"She...hit you?" She asked quietly.

"More like power slapped. It's fine, Maka." He tried to pacify, but Maka clenched her fists, probably smearing her hands.

"Nobody hits my partner. I'll teach that witch to hit somebody! Albinism is perfectly normal!" She snarled.

Soul looked up in puzzlement. "Albi-what? Is that a disease or something?"

Maka snorted, rolling her eyes as she sat down dramatically, resuming her activity.

"Albinism. It's what you have. That's why your hair is white, your skin is pale, and your eyes are red." She stated in a very official, scientific way. Soul shook his head, tromping up to his meister.

"Albinism?" He repeated.

Maka watched him as if he was a genius that just stated the obvious. "Lack of melanin causes pale skin, no color pigment in your hair, and the red is your retina being visible because of no color to the irises. Your an albino. It's a recessive gene, just like your weapon blood. It's hereditary and normal."

Soul waved his hands, dismissing the thought. "So I'm albino? You never thought to tell me this?" He said, his anger rising.

Maka blinked, staring staring into his retina visible eyes calmly.

"Does it matter?" She asked, cleaning up her nail kit, her task complete.

Soul opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. He stared silently as his meister packed everything up, and walked with it to the bathroom.

"So you have white hair and red eyes. Your still a human being that grew up like everyone else. You have a family-even if you resent them-and you have friends. You are an accomplished Death Scythe, the youngest in history may I remind you. If one girl is to blind to see that, shame on her. There are many more in the world for you to meet." She closed the cabinet, hiding away her nail kit.

She walked over to him slowly, not looking away. "Who knows? There are plenty of girls I can name that would probably kill just for you to look at them." She smiled warmly as she patted his head in a comforting way. She then lifted her left hand and let him see her nails. They were red on the tips, with a white squiggly line separating the red portion from the black. Her nails almost reminded him of his scythe form.

Maka grinned cheekily. "Your still my partner and still my friend, no matter what you look like." She lowered her hands, stepping away.

"It doesn't matter." She finished before vanishing to her room silently, leaving him to turn off the lights. He thought he sensed a longing from her, a hint, she always longed to cheer him up some how. He smiled happily before going to turn off the lights and lock the apartment door. He was just about to enter his room when Maka's voice called out from her darkened room.

"I _do_ care that some girl got a hit on my Death Scythe though. You may be a gentleman, but I don't have to be the nice one all the time!"

The Death Scythe grinned, his hands steady on his door's knob. No matter what, Maka was his partner, and she didn't ever criticize him for his looks. He just hoped, however, that Maka never would meet that girl.

It would be uncool for him to let his partner stoop so low as to publicly beat somebody to a pulp.


	5. Bandages

**Heya everybody! I know I've been almost silent in the past few months and I do apologize. I've been going through a really tough time with family lately and my inspiration and love of writing took an arrow to the knee. I don't necessarily feel it, but everyone of my friends say I'm in a depression. My drive to write dried, my love for anything vanished, and I became a complete drag with not a shred of laughter. Not how I am at all. Please be patient with my stories. I'm slowly crawling out of this hole myself: and plus, I can better describe such feelings in my stories now that I have experienced it first hand. Anyway, thanks for reading. It means a lot.**

**~Soprana**

Maka Albarn hissed as she leaned up against the cold tile of her cream colored shower. Warm, clear water flowed freely from the shower head to descend upon her thin body, but once it reached the destination of the drain, it was stained red. Along her right side, wrapping around from her torso to the center of her back, was a long, thin gash no wider than a pencil. Too long for her to ignore. She was, as she described to herself, butchered up nicely.

She bit down on her lip as one of the streams of water pattered directly on the gash, causing a horrible sting to overtake her senses. If she was a simple civilian, she would be crying out, and eventually alerting Soul about her injury when he got home. But, lucky for her, she was a two star scythe meister, finely trained to handle herself and her pain with finesse. Because of that skill, Soul would have no clue that she was injured. Thus, she wouldn't have to worry about him panicking and rolling head first into a 'wallow in guilt for a week' thing.

She'll have none of that. They needed to focus on more important things, like where the kishin was lurking. Soul didn't have time to worry about her when he had his own Death Scythe training to attend to. His success at becoming Lord Death's new weapon was her up-most priority, her wounds be damned. She covered her mouth to muffle her agonized gasps as she rinsed the remnants of her most recent 'battle' off her paling skin. She debated on washing her hair, but then decided she would do it tomorrow. She had to hurry and patch herself up before Soul caught a slightest whiff of her injury. He was like her valiant guard dog: loyal and overprotective. He was sharper than normal since they were separated for extensive training over a week ago. He was like a radar that knew her feelings anytime and anywhere.

Soul spent all of his time training with Lord Death these days, in order to better resonate on short notice. She, however, had been training with new weapon students without meisters in order to help them bag their first kishin egg. It was a 'jump-start program' as Lord Death had described it. It would keep her fit, and teach weapons proper extra-credit behavior. In such, when they did find a meister, they wouldn't be as gangly as a new born foal. She also tutored meister and weapon pairs in need. Soul hadn't liked the idea of her wielding another weapon besides himself, dubbing it 'uncool', until she reminded him that she was _his_ meister, not _theirs_. That she would always consider him, and only him her weapon.

He had blinked in utter astonishment before leaning back in his chair with a contemptuously smug smirk, satisfied with her coaxing. Her partner could be so bizarre sometimes. Anyways, she had embarked on only three quests with three different weapons and tutored ten other meister and weapon pairs before this trouble arose. Maka quickly turned off the water and gulped as cool air stung her gash. It was at least scabbing over. She breathed in relief, that would make some pain go away. The meister hobbled over to the cabinets to fetch bandages, salve, and disinfectant. The fun was only beginning.

Everything was going great today, until she had to tutor two pairs at once on such short notice. One pair had an emergency falling out with bickering, fighting, and...biting. Lord Death had begged her to take them under her wing for the day to try and re-establish their partnership. Maka, being ever so studious and loyal, couldn't say no. When it came to that tall, hyper, black cloaked man, 'no' wasn't in her vocabulary. So, she began to tutor the two rambunctious pairs. Or try to, at least. The falling out pair did nothing but bicker, sass her and her skills, and laugh at the other pair's mistakes. Pitiful. Never before had she had the lust to beat the brains clean out of someone with a 'Maka Chop'. Soul had it easy compared to her bottled rage at the pair. They shrugged off her suggestions, rolled their eyes as her reprimands, and openly mocked how she couldn't be a two star meister with her attire. But, for the sheer love of Shinigami, she withheld her wrath. Her and Soul were probably the same way when they first started. Well, she had to tell herself that to allow the little rats to live.

_To start out, she worked the pair though a fairly simple routine she remembered Black Star practicing with Tusubaki in sword mode. The meister, a young girl, huffed at something so simple. None the less, she still attempted to run through the motions with her demon samurai sword partner. He, on the other hand, fought her movements with great vigor, causing their control to become non-existent. Maka had her back turned, focusing completely on the new demon spear and her meister, oblivious to the silent battle behind her. Apparently in order to get back in control of her rouge weapon, the girl meister had tried to force resonance with the weapon. In retaliation, the weapon shot his soul wavelength out to sting his meister, __spiraling the resonance out of both of their control. The meister was swung helplessly away while the sword ricochet forward towards the stunned spear meister and his weapon, his blade crackling with intense energy left over from the failed resonance. _

_Within a split second, Maka shot forward, shoving the frozen pair out of harms way and catching the spiraling sword in her right hand. The momentum of the sword, however, was to great for her to stop immediately. His haywire wavelength also whip-lashed at her, making her unaccustomed to the weapon's weight. Thus, the demon sword's crackling blade embedded itself into her side. With practiced grace and grit, she removed the sword with a brisk flick, sending him flying to the dirt before her with a loud clang. She ignored the pain running up and down her body like ants on a tree. She stiffened straight up, shoulders back, eyes locked on the shocked meister and sword. She knew blood was freely dripping from her side, staining her uniform red. But, she stood stock still, glaring down at the pair. The sword flashed back to his human form and scrambled up as his meister scurried close to him, horror etched on their young faces. "Ms. Maka!" They both exclaimed frantically before spurting apologies left and right, begging her forgiveness and asking if she was alright._

_ Maka didn't say a word, only looking to the other pair she had been teaching as they righted themselves. Before they could speak, she cut them off. "Are you two alright?" She clearly stated, ignoring the previously babbling pair. The meister jumped in surprise at being addressed, but both the weapon and meister nodded. "Yes, Ms. Maka. But are you okay?!" They both shouted simultaneously. Ignoring them, Maka turned to the disruptive pair. "Don't apologize to me. You should be apologizing to them, you could have easily killed them." She said sternly, coldly. The formerly disruptive pair looked ashamed as they apologized to the spear meister and his weapon. Maka folded her arms and sighed. "Alein, Konan, you two are excused." The spear meister and his weapon bowed slowly, still in shock, lightly thanking her for saving them before walking away, not daring to look back. Maka still stared at the two left._

_ "Now that's over, tell me what happened. Why are you guys bickering?" She asked softly. The two stared at her, eyes wide. Were they shocked that she could calmly stand here, bleeding out and still carry on a lesson? The meister finally looked down sheepishly. "Well...Riku here is always obnoxious. He always acts calm and he's arrogant and fails all of our tests together. I finally told him he was a stupid partner." She stated to the forest floor. Maka nodded before looking to the weapon, Riku. "And you?" Riku sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets, reminding Maka of Soul in a way. "Jana here is always cramping my style. She's all like, 'study this and study that! Let's get ten souls by the end of the month!' She's so...lame." Immediately, both weapon and meister glared hatefully at each other. Maka chuckled before strolling up to them, cutting their insult fight short. "What's so funny?" Riku asked defensively. Maka giggled again. _

_"You two remind me of me and my weapon." Riku blinked owlishly. "You mean Soul Eater? Your awesome Death Scythe? No way are we like you and him! You guys are like, the perfect team, despite what we said eariler!" He retaliated while Jana nodded vigorously in agreement. Maka smiled and patted both of the students heads. "Believe it or not, Soul and I weren't always the perfect team. We still aren't. In the beginning, he complained that I was a bookworm with no friends. I called him stupid and lazy, sometimes uncool too. We couldn't resonate and we butted heads a lot. A lot. But, we both decided that we were right for each other, his strategy and coolness to my impulsiveness and knowledge. How do you two fit together?" _

_Her question stunned the pair into silence for a moment. Maka was about to sigh in disappointment before Jana spoke up. "Riku, he...he has patience. He's patient with me when I want to practice or I forget something. He always checks up on me and keeps me from hurting myself in dumb ways. He's...just there when I need him." Jana finished and blushed at the dumbfounded look Riku gave her. Maka coughed for Riku to give his thoughts. Riku thought for a moment, his face in deep concentration before he spoke carefully._

_ "Jana can be really mean sometimes," He smirked when Jana huffed, "but she is the only one I'll listen to. She keeps me in line. She is always looking out for my well being, even if it's nagging. I guess...she's okay...sometimes." He finished with a casual shrug. Maka smiled warmly before clasping both of their shoulders. "See? The relationship between meister and weapon is symbiotic. You live together for a cause. It's fine to bicker now and then but, if you let it __control you," __She pointed to her still seeping cut, "you can hurt others and yourselves. Now, you are dismissed. Report to Lord Death about your progress, leave out the little incident. Alright?" She coached with a smile. _

_Riku and Jana bowed quietly before turning to leave. Maka, already mentally cursing at the pain, only heard a few words between the two before they were gone. "Maka is right, we do work well together when we don't fight. I'm sorry Riku, I'll get better. As good as Maka. Yeah." "Jana, you are cool when your not grumpy. I bet if we practice hard, we can be like Maka and Soul." Their excited voices began to fade, only leaving the sound of wind and Maka's short gasps._

She yelped as her arm accidentally brushed up against the tender flesh and then cursed a mouthful of foul words. Here she was perched on the toilet, naked from the waist up, trying to clean out a wound, alone. Without help. It was kind of depressing.

Blair could have helped, but she was at Chupra Cabra's for work.

Tsubaki would panic and alert Black Star who, in turn, would tell Soul.

Kid would be no help, since the cut was asymmetrical.

Liz and Patti, she wouldn't even try out of fear. Plus, she didn't feel like putting a bra on, just bandages and wraps. No guys allowed.

She dabbed a cotton ball soaked in hydrogen peroxide, only to cry out as a stinging pain seared her from the inside, out. Maka attempted to calm her breathing, until she heard a loud thump. She had only a second before the bathroom door was kicked open with a _bang!_ In came Soul, his hair matted with dirt and grease, his clothing ruffled, and his panting loud and clear. His eyes wide and ablaze, quickly scanning the room before turning to Maka. She never gave him the chance to look at her. She crossed an arm across her breast before reaching to grab items of the counter beside her.

"_Soul! Stupid! Get out!"_ She screeched as she chucked a brush at Soul's head. With a hollow _thunk,_ the brush collided and fell to the floor, not as deadly as her books were. Soul hissed and covered his face with his hands, grunting in pain. Maka almost thought he would turn around and leave, not looking at her and muttering curses. That wasn't the case today. Soul uncovered his face, his cheeks a boiling red in his fury.

"Damn it Maka! Why do yo-" Soul's voice caught, sounding like he choked. His eyes widened considerably in shock, his mouth slightly open. Maka was about to yell at him to quit looking at her breasts when she suddenly realized what he was really looking at.

"Maka-" Soul began softly, giving no hints about his future reaction.

She looked down, just to humor him and try to fake like she didn't know what he was looking at, only to gasp. In her fury to hit Soul, she pulled the gash open slightly. Bright red blood trickled down her side and into her towel pooled at her hips.

"Shit!" She snapped as she attempted to dab the leak away. She nearly thought Soul had shut down mentally, until his soft, warm hand closed around her wrist.

"Stop." He said softly, but she could hear the anger and coldness of his voice. She shivered as he removed her arms from her body, exposing her. His rusty ruby eyes scoured her wound as he took the towel from her, and began lightly dabbing, easing the scab back. Maka tried to keep her breath short, unchanged, but it was so hard when her partner was leaning over her like that, his face concentrating and his eyes burning with tamed rage.

When did he get so...she didn't even know.

The towel grazed a particular sore spot, and Maka couldn't hold her gasp. Soul paused immediately, his lips pursed. He waited for her to calm her breathing down before he dabbed away again. Maka was sure she could hear his soul ranting out in anger as he kept his face passive. Slowly easing the blood to a slight bubble, Soul reached for the ointment and applied it to her wound silently. It was when he reached for the bandage, he made a huffing noise.

"Did you think you could hide this from me?" It was an emotionless tone, but it sent dread raining down on Maka. She nodded slightly, making a confirming hum. Soul sighed, his deep baritone voice vibrating the air surrounding them, and Maka felt her cheeks heat up. "You're really stupid sometimes." He said, more to himself as he tenderly placed the gauze on her cut, taping it with even more care. "You can't hide something like this. You shouldn't even try." Maka looked down shamefully, her voice meek.

"I...I didn't want you to worry. I knew you'd be angry too." Her partner paused in unraveling the bandage wrap, looking at her blankly.

"I'm always going to worry, Maka. Your so accident prone it's not even funny. Especially when I'm not with you. As for being angry, yes, I am. But after today, I was worried more than I was angry. Now, care to explain this?" He gestured to Maka's side. Maka scrunched her back, her head down. "I had to take on a falling out group. They tried to fight and accidentally resonated, sending the weapon flying at my other group. I caught him before he reached them, but his wavelength was a little out of control and I slipped up." Soul hummed in understanding, "So that's what it was." He muttered. Maka tilted her head at her weapon.

"What?"

Soul glanced up, his eyes locked with hers. "During training today, I felt a pin prick on my side. Then later, I heard you." He looked away to the shower. "You were hurt, and your soul told me that." He scratched his head, his teeth peeking out from his lips. "I have no idea how, but I heard you in pain. So I ran all the way here." Maka blinked, and gasped.

"You! You left Lord Death just like that!? Your supposed to be training with him Soul! How could you-" She ranted, and Soul cut her off.

"Because you're more important."

Maka stopped, looking at him in shock. Soul pinked, looking to the ceiling. "You're my meister, and I am your weapon. You are my most important responsibility." His face turned redder.

"Now...c-could you p-please put a shirt on or s-something? You're bandaged." Maka, her own face lighting up, coughed.

"O-oh, -um yeah." She fumbled with her pajama top, buttoning every button to make sure she was covered before looking back at her weapon. "T-Thanks Soul." She smiled happily. He grinned in return, patting her head. "I'm still angry though, and flashing me will not help your situation." He teased, his eyes closed.

He never saw the hairdryer coming.

Maka stood, her arms crossed and her nose up haughtily. "Stupid. If that gets out to anyone, I will personally steam roll you." She snapped. Soul chuckled from the floor. "I might enjoy that too much."

Maka's hair curler met his head this time.


End file.
